


First Kiss

by yeaka



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/F, Ficlet, First Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-22
Updated: 2015-01-22
Packaged: 2018-03-08 14:53:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3213212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the blink of an eye, they go from friends to more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I know zero about Marvel or American history beyond this show; heads up. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Agent Carter or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Even with the overhang of the automat above her, the rain finds ways to ruin Peggy’s clothes. It slinks through the uneven cracks of the pavement, sloshing around her heels, and the passing cars splatter it up the edges of her skirt. She keeps her umbrella over her head, but that doesn’t stop the wind from rushing droplets in from the side. Every once in a while, she turns enough to catch her reflection in the glass: more a mess every time. Her hair’s darkened with the water, the curls slicking loose, and she still finds it hard to believe that her makeup hasn’t run. She’s only meeting Angie, but...

She’s meeting _Angie_ , so it matters. There’re few people in this world Peggy bothers looking good for, but Angie’s one of them. So Peggy idly twists the umbrella’s handle in her hands, willing the rain to stop. 

A low clatter bangs behind her, and Peggy glances over her shoulder, to find Angie talking through the glass, all dolled up in her cute little blue-and-orange uniform. Peggy can’t hear a word of it, and Angie’s lips move too fast to read, but Peggy nods towards the door, offering to come in. Most of the lights in the automat are out: it’s after hours. Angie just shakes her head in exasperation and stomps towards the doors. Peggy watches her skirt sway off, her tight hair bouncing off her shoulders. 

Peggy walks back to the entrance so Angie won’t have far to go, and Angie sticks halfway out the glass door, sighing right off the bat, “I’m sorry, Peg.” She _looks_ sorry, her exaggerated features eaten up with disappointment. Peggy parts her lips to say that whatever it is, it’s alright, but she has to step back, instead; Angie shuffles out the door. Her hands instantly clap around her bare biceps—it’s cold out here. Peggy almost removes her own jacket on instinct, ready to throw it around Angie’s smaller shoulders, but of course, that would be inappropriate. Angie will go right back inside. But first she tells Peggy bitterly, “Frickin’ Carol spilled grease all over the back—I have to stay and help clean up. I’m sorry.” She lets go of her arms long enough to throw her hands up. “And after you waited for me, too!”

“It’s alright,” Peggy insists, just like she knew it would be. She almost offers to come in and help, but of course, she doesn’t want to get Angie in trouble for letting strangers in after hours. “I can wait a bit longer.”

Angie’s whole face lights up before guilt takes over it—she’s so _expressive_ , so _alive_ , and Peggy still feels stupid for ever thinking she could get away from that. Angie’s too irresistible and takes another step forward, splashing a puddle over Peggy’s shoes and darting her hands down to clasp Peggy’s around the umbrella. She’s painted her nails red today—just like Peggy’s. “Would you? You don’t have to; I know you’re busy.”

Not today. There’s nothing to be done today, and Peggy’s already made up her mind to share that brief relief with Angie. She nods and insists, “It’s fine. I’ll wait right here.” She smiles and doesn’t say that for Angie, she’d wait hours. 

Angie looks giddy. She makes an excited noise in the back of her throat, and she insists, “You won’t regret this, English.”

“I should hope not,” Peggy laughs. “You offered me schnapps.”

“And I’ll make good on it! I promise!”

Peggy knows. Angie’s smile is contagious, and for one fixed moment, they’re both grinning at each other like fools for no reason. The noises of the city go whizzing by them, and Angie’s warm hands linger around Peggy’s. It hits the point where Peggy knows they’ve been staring too long, and she should pull away, but Angie’s intoxicating perfume holds her to the spot, and her mind flashes, instead, to the idea of scooping Angie’s small frame into her arms to heat them both up. 

Angie turns the umbrella. She twists Peggy’s grasp until the plastic covering is shielding them from the street, blocking off their faces in a protective red bubble with water sloshing down the ends. Then Angie takes a step forward, her pointed shoe between Peggy’s legs, and she tilts her face into Peggy’s, her pink lips falling open. 

Peggy’s frozen on the spot for half a second, then giving in, leaning back down all on instinct. Their mouths close together, soft and moist and full of promise. Peggy can taste Angie’s lip gloss, and her tongue snakes over the plush bottom and along Angie’s teeth, down into her waiting walls, Angie’s tongue pressing back up to meet hers. Peggy leans in more, her arm scooping around Angie’s waist just like it wanted to, and she’d probably drop the umbrella if Angie weren’t holding it up, while Angie’s other hand tangles in her hair. A sharp tug keeps her in, keeps them flush together, kissing full and hard, full of passion. Peggy supposes she’s wanted this all along and knew it, just didn’t want to think about it, but if she’d been smart, she’d have seen the signs. Angie kisses like she’s never wanted anything more in her life, and when Peggy does pull away, Angie whines like she doesn’t want to let Peggy go. 

An umbrella’s not enough protection for this. She looks at Angie through hazy eyes and wants to say ‘not here,’ but finds she can’t say anything at all. Angie’s cheeks are rosy and her eyes are half-lidded: she looks _so_ pretty.

And she’s _Peggy’s_. Probably has been for a long time. She looks at Peggy like this is all she ever wanted, and she mumbles, “Wait for me?”

Peggy breathes, “Yes.” It feels so inadequate, but it’s enough. 

Angie smiles. She bites her bottom lip and pulls away, finally releasing her grip on Peggy’s umbrella, which tumbles down, half-forgotten. The awning still protects Peggy from most of the rain, but being wet is hardly her prime concern anymore. Angie smiles brighter than the sun itself. She practically skips back through the automat doors, racing behind the counter. 

And Peggy stands on the spot, gingerly touching her lips and wondering if her lipstick’s smudged. At least if it is, it was worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> Gorgeous fanart [by RomanImp!](http://romans-art.tumblr.com/post/108973115014/short-cartinelli-comic-based-off-of-this-stupidly)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] First Kiss](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4519218) by [Kess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kess/pseuds/Kess)




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